


Ways to Amuse your Domina on a Cold & Quiet Afternoon

by AlexiCyn



Category: Original Work
Genre: Dom/sub, Gen, Master/Slave, Masturbation, Owner/property, Strip Tease
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2004-03-01
Updated: 2004-03-01
Packaged: 2017-12-22 02:35:26
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,725
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/907868
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/AlexiCyn/pseuds/AlexiCyn
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>You said you would do anything. So. Entertain me!</p>
            </blockquote>





	Ways to Amuse your Domina on a Cold & Quiet Afternoon

**Author's Note:**

> Boi as used in this story refers to a submissive male.

She sits in the shadows, a soft voice giving commands.

''Stand in the light. That's it. Turn a bit for Me, mmmmmm now take off the jacket... 'And your shoes - you won't be needing those.'' 

She had pulled him into the room almost as soon as she had gotten in. He was familiar with this mood and it always scared and thrilled him. She wanted him to perform for her, like some adult entertainer in the Red Light District that they would walk through on her visits.

But then again this was a little different than those hot sweaty bodies they had watched, grinding and gyrating for tips. She didn't want him naked. Not entirely. She liked seeing him half dressed; flesh peeking out; a hip here, a nipple there. He may end up naked or he may not. It wasn't his place to say, only to do as he was told. 

She had put on a CD, something they both liked. Something they had danced to. It made his hips sway, remembering her touch, her body warm against his. The thought of it made him smile and made him hard. She always remarked that dancing was like having sex standing up with your clothes on . . . mmmmmm the smile a little wider and him a little harder with the thought.

''Pull your shirt out of your pants. Now unbutton the shirt.'' 

Hands quickly working to comply....

''Leave the top two buttons done mmmmmmm that's it . . .''

She stirred in the shadows of the room. Sitting in the armchair, in the corner, her skirt pulled up, one leg thrown over the arm of the chair. He could just make out her smile, the twinkle in her eyes. Her rich dark skin a perfect camouflage. Like so much dark brown velvet draped over the chair. It didn't matter that he couldn't see her, he had memorised every curve, every inch of her flesh that he had been allowed to see, to taste, to lick, to touch, to WORSHIP. He adored the way the corners of her eyes wrinkled when she smiled; and the lustful twinkle that was sure to be in them now. The way her skin gleamed when she was excited. He didn't have to see her; he could feel her. This small dark Woman that owned a part of his very soul.

''Take off your belt. Open your shirt a little bit. That's it, let Me see what's Mine.'' 

''What's Mine''.... The words rang in his ears like bells. He was hers, completely. There was almost nothing he wouldn't do for her and over time he had proven that. She skilfully took him over, around and through just about anything and everything he had considered a limit. She the Master musician and he, her finely tuned instrument. . . . she played him in ways that he had only fantasized about and given him new fantasies and dreams to strive for. 

He unfastened the buckle and pulled the belt from its loops. His hands sliding under the loose material, he pulled the shirt back so that she could see his stomach. Arching his back the way he knew she liked, he slid his hands up to his nipples, exposing them to her watchful eyes.

''Nice, very nice.'' came her voice from the shadows. It sounded husky and deep with want and he could feel the change in the room. Smell it.

''Glad to see you got the other nipple redone.''

With that he blushed. He hadn't told her of his plans to redo the one that had migrated; he just did it as a surprise and now he was glad he had. Pleased that she had noticed, it made the pain of getting it done again well worth it. A soft laugh came from across the room. 

''I can still make you blush I see. Good.'' 

He could feel his cheeks burn and his skin grow hot; all he could muster was a quick nod of his head. The music changed at that point, saving him from his own embarrassment. The music was rhythmic and deep, almost primitive and somehow tribal. The kind that caught your soul and you had no choice but to move with it, or be overwhelmed by it. He swayed softly, knowing she was watching his every move. He closed his eyes for a moment and let the music take him, hips moving and gliding; body swaying, allowing himself to be taken where the music saw fit. 

He opened his eyes again and let them re-adjust to the darkness of the room. He could see her now. Sitting, watching him perform. Leaning on her left arm, her hand up to her mouth, index finger playing with her full lips, exploring her mouth, the way it did when she was thinking, or when she saw something she liked. Her right hand running along her cleavage, almost absentmindedly, as if her hands like his hips had a mind of their own.

''Knees. Show Me.''

He had been hoping for those words. He knew what she wanted. He had performed this way for her before. Sinking to his knees, he let the shirt fall open around him, his hands roaming over his body; skin warming to his touch; nipples so hard they ached. Bouncing a bit as if riding an unseen steed, his body coming up from his heels and returning back down. An easy up down rhythm with a slight pelvic thrusting to the motion, hips moving in time with the music; his hands, sliding down over his stomach, he smiled, glad for the extra crunches he had added to his routine. Feeling the muscles ripple at his touch and smiling at the sound of her sucking in her breath in appreciation of the show he was so eagerly providing.

He continued touching, hands running over his thighs, feeling the muscles there tense and relax with his thrusts. Hands running along the insides of his thighs, wincing a bit at the tightness of his zipper as he thrust forward. He was hard and he was wet and he was sure by now there was a stain on the front of his pants to prove these facts.

He continued to sway to the music; lost in performing, lost in pleasing, the pleasing and amusing of her. He slid his hands behind his back and grabbed his ass, thrusting his hips forward and arching his back; moaning deep in his throat as the movement made his pants that much tighter. He continued this thrusting, this pleading with his hips, his shoulders, his moans until finally, She spoke again.

''Show Me.''

Eager hands came from behind his back, flying to the button on his trousers, fumbling for it, near desperate for release. Again the soft husky voice came from the darkened corner.

''Relax, take your time. I'm enjoying this show. Are you in that much of a hurry to be finished?''

He let his hands fall to his sides, his breathing labored; he hung his head and closed his eyes for a moment, willing his hands to be still. Certain that she could hear the beating of his heart as loudly as he could, he bit his lip for a moment to hold back the gasp of frustration that almost slipped out.

''Of course Madam, i would never think to deprive You of Your pleasure.''

She laughed softly, and he blushed again.

''So sweet My eager boy is. You know what I want, now show Me.''

The words came slowly, like honey dripping from a spoon and with a slowness that made one ache for its completion.

''Yes m'Lady. As You wish.''

Slowly he brought his hands up from his side, past his waistband and up his torso. Hands sliding, caressing, making his skin tingle, he slid his hands once again up to his nipples and tugged gently on the rings. Moaning softly as the sensation ran liquid through his nerve endings.

Releasing the rings he slid his hands down over his stomach and into the top of his pants, sliding deeper into his trousers, feeling the wetness on the front of his briefs. He rubbed for a while, till he thought he could no longer hold off. Not wanting to displease her, he slid his hands out of his pants and reached for the button.

''Do it.''

Her voice was little more than a whisper and came fast and breathless.

He reached down and undid the button on his pants and then slowly unzipped them, sighing with relief at the relieving of the pressure on his cock.

Once the zipper was undone he slid his hand into the front of his trousers and moaned. Arching his back, he worked his pants down and open until they were as wide open as they could be without ripping and the zipper was under his balls. She had a clear view of his hands, his underwear and its contents and he knew she was watching and was determined to put on an even better show.

He slid his right hand into his pants, cupping his balls, his left played with one of the little golden rings. He gave his balls a firm squeeze and moaned as the sensations shot through him. He wondered only for a moment if he were too loud, before he quickly reminded himself that volume wasn't an issue since she loved to hear him moan and had worked long and hard on loosening his tongue.

He squeezed his balls a while longer before moving his hand up to his cock, grabbing it firmly, he began to stroke. Once, twice on the third stroke he moaned and stopped, fearing for his own self-control. He brought his left hand down and grabbed his balls through the cloth of his briefs, squeezing them firmly to shock the building eruption back into submission. With his left hand on his balls, pulling slightly, he began once again to stroke. With his hands inside the briefs so that only the top inch or two of his cock peeked over the elastic waistband, he knelt on the floor, an entertainer in the spot light. Lost in the music and the reactions of his body to his hands attention. Hoping that his performance was pleasing to his audience but certain that if it wasn't he would know about it.

He knelt and stroked, his body slowly writhing, fucking his fist. Moaning and sweating, only semi aware of his surroundings; he knew he was wet because of the ease in which his hand slid up and down. He assumed he was pleasing to the eye because he hadn't bee instructed to change anything he was doing, other than that it was all sensation; sound and touch; smell and half site, his desire clouding his vision and attempting to overtake his mind.

His hand slid from his balls up to the elastic waistband of his briefs and pulled them down so that they were now resting under his balls. His manhood fully exposed for the first time he had to catch his breath, surprised at the chill that came over his sweaty skin when the cooler air of the room touched him for the first time. Chilled or not he continued stroking, continued thrusting. Daring not to ask but pleading with his body, for a word, a touch, a sound that would let him know he was pleasing Her.

He continued to stroke, to squeeze, head lolling from side to side, back and forth, mouth open, eyes half shut, breathing deep and heavy. He squeezed his balls a little harder and a loud moan escaped his lips. As he knelt there, waves of desire traveling all the little nerve endings in his body, his hands grabbing, squeezing, stroking, She spoke. 

''Here boi.'' as she spoke, she tapped a spot in front of her chair with her left foot.

Quickly he fell to his hands and knees and crawled over to her, cock bobbing with each movement; stopping on the spot she had marked with her foot, he knelt up, hands resting on the small of his back; cock bobbing and eyes watching her left foot swing slowly back and forth. If she had wished to, she could have reached out and touched him with her foot; but just.

''Closer boi.''

He quickly crawled a bit closer, turgid cock swaying with the effort. She stopped him by placing her foot on his cock and he moaned, fearing that he would fall over, he quickly dropped his hands back to the floor to steady himself, so overwhelmed was he by her touch on his skin.

She sat for a moment looking at him; her left legging still swinging gently, coming within a fraction of an inch of touching him again; her right leg over the arm of the chair. Skirt pulled up over her thighs, she had removed her boots and tights when she came in and now he was close enough to see the dark moist spot on her panties. But, even if he hadn't been able to see the proof of her excitement, he could smell it; a rich, heady, musky mix of her perfume and her juices. He inhaled deeply and smiled; the scent made his mouth water and his cock throb and leak. He wanted her, he ached with his longing for her, but he knew all too well that if he were to worship her this day it would be her choice and hers alone; asking for it was a good way to make sure it didn't happen. So, he smiled and inhaled and waited to hear what she wanted of him.

What came next was a surprise. She stuck Her foot out and grabbed his cock, right under the head, and with a strength that was amazing for a pair of toes. She squeezed and wiggled and smiled as She milked him with Her foot.

Oh my GODDESS, it felt so good! He knelt and just shuddered at her touch.

She continued stroking him with her toes, up and down, over and around, using her big toe to smear the wetness around the head of his cock. Until finally, not able to help himself he had to beg.

''Mistress please! ''Stop!'' The words came in a gasp and he was afraid that if she stroked him just one more time there would be a horrible accident.

''Stop? Don't you like what I'm doing?'' Her voice came in a teasing singsong.

''No! Yes! No! i mean I love it but, if You continue, i i i think i'm going to make a mess.''

''So...., you want Me to stop?'' She continued to squeeze with her toes, all the while sitting and smiling down at him with that wonderful Cheshire cat grin of hers.

''Yes! No! i mean, if You continue doing that Ma'am i don't know if i can hold back! But, Your wish is my desire, do as You will.''

Every word was a struggle and cane out in a near breathless staccato and he was afraid of saying the wrong thing. He would never even think to deny her her pleasure, but he wasn't sure if he could maintain his control much longer . . .

And the whole time she had continued to stroke and tease him ever so slowly with her toes. Just when he sure he would loose his mind and all control she stopped and just sat there smiling. He knelt, chest heaving, looking down at the shiny slick piece of meat between his legs that had taken on an angry purple red color.

''Hmmmm seems, you've made a bit of a mess boi.'' and before he had a chance to respond Her foot was in his face. ''Clean that up. Now.''

He quickly took her left foot in his hands, being careful not to pull her from her reclining position or straining her muscles by lifting her foot too high. He slid her first two toes into his mouth and began to gently suck, swirling his tongue up, down and around, licking firmly between her toes, so as not to tickle. When he heard her moan, he redoubled his efforts, making sure to take care of the other 3 toes as well, even though they had had very little part in the delicious abuse of his member.

''Mmmmmmm that's nice and after spending all day walking around the markets, my poor tired feet are enjoying the attention.''

With those words spoken, he began to rub her foot while he continued sucking. There were some things that she didn't need to tell him to do, to rub her tired feet when he had a chance to was one of them. She had always said she preferred a boy that could think for himself (when allowed). She had no interest in micro managing him and doing all the thinking for two people. She said she had picked him to be one of hers for many reasons; his intelligence was one of them. Which meant in her mind (and his) his IQ didn't get to drop 20 points just because he was on his knees. She expected him to think of and act upon ways to please her. And he felt she was more than generous with him when his choices were good ones. 

He continued sucking and rubbing, inhaling the scent of her perfume, and of the leather from the boots she had worn; and underneath both those smells was the warm fresh smell of her skin. He continued licking and sucking, caressing and cuddling her foot. Hoping to rub away the fatigue and leave behind nothing but bliss.

While he had been busy rubbing and kissing, she had been moving slowly, but moving none the less. She now sat straight in the chair. So enthralled was he with the pleasure of being able to touch her once again that he hadn't yet noticed her repositioning herself. Though, that quickly changed when she grabbed his cock once again, this time with her right foot.

He yelped and was glad he hadn't been sucking on her toes when she grabbed him, for he was almost certain he just might have bitten her in his surprise. He was beside himself at this point. So close to the edge, barely holding on as it was and now, she was back to torment him. He knelt, eyes half closed, her foot resting in his hands, trying to breath, trying to stem the tide, hoping that she would stop and praying secretly that she wouldn't. As all of these thoughts and emotions whirled through his mind, she spoke again.

''Hmmmm, I don't remember telling to you to stop what you were doing.''

''I . .. yes Ma'am.''

He raised her foot back to his mouth and continued sucking her toes while rubbing her foot and now her lower leg. Massaging as far up her calf as he could reach. All the while, her other foot continued to work, teasing him, taunting him, pushing him further to the edge of his control; and he hated it and loved it, and moaned deep in his soul and he felt the precum begin to leak in earnest. He continued to suck and massage and she continued to squeeze and tease. When he noticed that his hips had joined in on the fun and where moving of their own accord he knew he was in trouble. He stopped worshiping her foot, just holding it there in his hands. She didn't stop what she was doing and only acknowledged that anything had changed with a one-word question:

"Yes?"

"Mistress i can't .." every word a struggle... Stroke, stroke stroke... 

"Can't what?"

"can't .... stop . . . can't . . . hold . . . it . ., much . . ." 

Every word taking him that much closer to the abyss.

"Oh, but you can. And you will My sweet boi. And you want to know why? Because it's what I want!"

And with the word want, she quickly took both feet back, planted them firmly on either side of his thighs, reached down and grabbed his cock with her right hand and SQUEEZED!

HARD!

He screamed. And yet, the room was still mostly quiet, save for the CD that was still playing. Quit because she had covered his mouth with hers and had swallowed his scream. Feeding off of it, off the energy from it. She squeezed, he screamed, she fed, he screamed. She ran her tongue around the inside of his mouth, licking and teasing and his scream turned into a moan. She continued to squeeze and he moaned deeper, her tongue dancing with his. Her soft full lips on his, tongue dancing and playing and all the while she squeezed. And then, he shuddered and he moaned and he screamed again; but this one, this one was different.

The orgasm was a surprise, a shock. There had been no ejaculation; he was as hard as he had been during this whole emotional dance. This was pure bliss, a coming of the soul if you will (at least that's how it felt to him). She continued stroking him slowly and when she finally broke the kiss he couldn't help but to whimper at the loss of her touch. Longing for her lips again.

She released his cock and he moaned once again; eyes locked on hers, his breathing deep and labored.

"Well now." "That was something special."

He smiled as he watched her lick her lips and examine the precum that was adhering to her fingers. She got comfortable in the chair again, all the while playing with the sticky mess he had made on her fingers.

"Hmmm seems you've made quiet a mess here, boy. Perhaps you ought to clean it up."

The last, not so much a question as a statement of fact. He shuffled a bit closer, painfully aware of his now bobbing and still throbbing member. As he leaned in to take the fingers that were being offered to him, she gently let them rest on the wet silk of her panties.

"Hmmmm what do you know, seems you have more than one mess to clean up, little slut."

With that he just nodded his head and mumbled, "Yes Ma'am." he knew it was going to be a wonderfully

loooonnnngggg night.

Finis - for now . . .

**Author's Note:**

> No beta checker.
> 
> D/s, O/p, or M/s. I think all could fit here, one way or another...
> 
> In case you are wondering, I am the D.O.M. :D
> 
> By C.I.S. aka AlexiCyn aka Alexi Bonds. Copyright 2004-2009 All rights reserved.


End file.
